


When in Derry

by reddiegays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Affectionate Insults, Drinking to Cope, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Flirting, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Hypothetical Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Slow Dancing, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, The Derry Townhouse (IT), and they basically pretend to have a first date, but they wonder what would've happened if they'd both been single, richie and eddie aren't together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiegays/pseuds/reddiegays
Summary: At the Derry townhouse, Richie and Eddie ponder a hypothetical: what if Eddie hadn’t been married when they reunited? But it’s only a hypothetical...
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	When in Derry

Professional stand-up comedian Richie Tozier was convinced no joke he would ever tell in the future would be funnier than finding out his former childhood best friend and crush, Eddie Kaspbrak, was married to a woman. He’d expressed his incredulity at the fact over dinner at the Jade of the Orient, official reunion location of the newly reformed Losers Club. Eddie had told him to fuck off. Or to fuck himself...something like that, and they moved on. But Richie couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Who was this extremely lucky woman who had won the marriage lottery? Did she realise how lucky she was? Did she treat her husband like a king and worship the ground he walked on? It what Eddie deserved. The mystery of Mrs. Kaspbrak was eating away at him so he drank. Richie’s feelings for Eddie hadn’t changed a bit since they were children, much to his annoyance. He had hoped that their time spent apart had weakened his intense love but no such luck. If anything he loved Eddie even more. Drinking was the only way to deal with the feelings he’d never be able to act on.

Eddie didn’t speak much about his wife. Richie didn’t know what she looked like, how they’d met, how long they’d been married, if they had any kids. Hell, he didn’t even know her name! The thought of Eddie breeding with some random woman made him feel sick so he knocked back another shot. But he hadn’t returned to his hometown just to get his dick wet, there was a killer clown out there which soon became clear to everyone in the restaurant thanks to a couple of haunted fucking fortune cookies. After much debate about whether they should stay just to be murdered, they agreed and headed back to the townhouse for a much needed night’s rest.

Richie stayed up, preferring to take advantage of the minibar in the townhouse’s lounge. It was just he and Eddie left - the shortass was currently pacing in the foyer, having a heated discussion with Mrs. K down the phone. He tried not to listen, none of his business and shit, but apparently the good lady wasn’t quite happy about her Eddie Bear leaving to return to Derry. Richie definitely heard the quiet ‘fuck you’ Eddie muttered into his phone before hanging up.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked cheekily when Eddie joined him. He just glared at him, snatching the bottle of gin from him and pouring a glass. Richie chuckled, “get used to it, Eds. That’s marriage for you.”

“How would you fucking know?”

Richie nodded, knocking back another glass of gin, “that’s fair...”

Eddie sighed, leaning against the bar, “she wants me to come home, says nothing I have to do here is more important than her and our marriage.”

“I still can’t believe you’re married,” Richie said with a giggle, his slightly inebriated state making him more loose-tongued than usual which was saying something. Eddie frowned, putting his glass back on the bar.

“Why? What’s so fucking un-marriable about me, asshole?”

Richie looked him up and down, wanting desperately to say he was perfect and there was nothing un-marriable about him. Instead, he said, “don’t listen to me, dude, I’m drunk.”

“No, come on,” Eddie wasn’t backing down and he stepped closer to Richie, arms folded, “there’s obviously something distinctly fucking repellent about me being married. You might as well tell me.”

Richie glanced at him and swallowed, deciding to bite the bullet, “alright, well, it’s a shitty excuse but...I was gonna ask for your number. If you were single. I was all prepared to ask you out.” Eddie stared at him, his expression hard to read. Eventually, Richie just shrugged, pouring himself another glass of gin, “I told you it was shitty.”

“No you fucking weren’t,” Eddie scoffed, apparently finding the very thought of Richie hitting on him very amusing. The comedian was actually quite offended.

“Yes I fucking was!”

“And how would that have gone, dude?” Eddie was smirking now and Richie wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He didn’t say anything so Eddie continued, “we might die here, Rich. So, right now, I’m single and I’m in need of a good laugh...ask me out.”

Richie stared at his friend like he’d grown an extra head, “seriously? Like, for real? Unless...” he tentatively reached out and poked Eddie’s face, “murder clown? Gay and depressed won’t make for a tasty last meal, bro.”

“Fuck off, idiot,” Eddie swatted Richie’s hand away, shaking his head fondly; okay, so not Pennywise. The shorter man rolled his eyes, suddenly nervous, “look, if you’re gonna be a little bitch about this, I might as well go to bed.”

“Okay, dipshit, you asked for this,” Richie drained his glass and placed it back on the bar. He comically attempted to smooth his hair into place, leaning against the bar seductively, he hoped, “can I get you a drink?”

“That’s it?” Eddie deadpanned, glaring at Richie, “that’s your great opening line?”

“Not my best one,” he agreed, pushing up his glasses and putting on his much improved British Guy Voice, “‘what’s a nice fellow like you doing inside a chap like me’? Now, that one works great if we’re having sex,” Richie said with a smirk, noticing Eddie’s blush at the implication, “most of the time I just say, ‘hey, I’m famous, wanna see my dick?’ Not sure it would work on you, though.”

Despite himself, Eddie laughed, nudging Richie’s arm, “fuck you.”

“Your smile is gorgeous. I remember it like I saw it yesterday,” Richie said softly, genuinely, unable to tear his eyes away from Eddie. He meant every word even if this was make believe. He loved Eddie more than he’d ever loved anyone and he’d never know. His eyes filled with tears but he continued, praying his voice didn’t break, “I missed you. Even when I didn’t know I was missing you, I missed you every day. I miss fighting over the hammock, sneaking into your bedroom through the window. Calling you names, just to get a response. And your stupid beautiful fucking eyes.”

There was a moment’s pause during which the two just stared at each other, taking in every detail that had changed over the last twenty seven years. Neither had realise how they’d gravitated towards each other during the conversation until they were mere inches apart. Richie’s hand had started absent-mindedly tracing circles over the back of Eddie’s hand that rested on the bar.

“Lame,” Eddie finally whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was lying. He could quite easily see himself sucking Richie’s dick behind the bar. Hypothetically, of course. Richie raised an eyebrow, looking rather smug.

“You think you can do better?” He was positively begging Eddie to reciprocate their little game. He spread his arms in a ‘go ahead’ gesture, “woo me, bitch.”

“Woo you?” Eddie actually laughed which did nothing but make Richie’s knees weak; god, he was so fucking gone for him, “come on, Rich, you’re easy. All I’d need to do is drop my pants and say ‘wanna go upstairs?’“

Richie’s mouth was watering and he swallowed hard, “yeah, well, just pretend that isn’t true. I’m in the mood to be wooed.”

He grinned, immensely pleased with himself; two can play at that game. Eddie nodded and stepped away from the bar, heading towards the old fashioned radio in the corner of the room. He fiddled for a little while until some rather static classical music started playing. Richie watched him curiously as he straightened his jacket and walked back over to him, holding out his hand.

“Do you want to dance?”

Richie looked from Eddie’s hand to his face, eyes wide, “what the fuck? That’s your master plan?”

“Trust me.”

Richie sighed but he took Eddie’s hand, letting him lead him into the middle of the room. It took them a little while to get into a rhythm that didn’t feel awkward but eventually they were swaying gently to the music, hands entwined and completely wrapped up in their own little bubble.

“Your hands have got so big,” Eddie sounded awestruck, gazing in wonder at how small his hand looked engulfed by Richie’s, “I used to imagine them squeezing my neck. That’d look even better now.”

“Jesus, Eds,” Richie breathed, his head falling to Eddie’s shoulder, “warn a guy before you say shit like that.”

“Who would’ve guessed that I’d be better at this than you?”

Richie gave a weak laugh, Eddie’s own giggle music to his ears, “god, I’m so in love with you.”

Whether Eddie heard him or not, he didn’t say but he certainly held Richie tighter, trying to put everything he couldn’t or was too afraid to say into the gesture. They moved silently together for the longest time, holding each other and basking in each other’s company. Neither had been this happy in a long time - Eddie would swear he heard Richie humming along to the music.

“You know,” Eddie broke the silence, lifting his head to properly look at Richie, “they say if you want to know what a guy’s like in bed, take him dancing.”

“Is that what this is?” Richie tried to sound cocky and smug but he was nervous as all fuck. He was convinced Kaspbrak was trying to kill him. The jury was still out on him being Pennywise, waiting for the right moment to eat him. Still, he smirked, feigning confidence, “how am I doing, Special K?”

Eddie looked him up and down, blatantly checking him out. Richie was tempted to strike a pose or attempt some elaborate dance move; then again, throwing out his back wouldn’t look that great either. Finally, Eddie shrugged, “you’re doing alright.”

“Yeah? Just remember that when I get you in bed.”

“That’s funny. You should be a comedian.”

They both laughed, no longer interested in Eddie’s actually rather good pick-up tactic. Richie couldn’t help but wonder if he’d used it to woo his wife. If he had, no wonder he was married. He should stop thinking about Eddie’s wife before he ends up saying something he’d regret. Eddie was at the bar pouring himself a drink, fanning his flaming cheeks; they hadn’t been exerting that much energy so Richie put it down to their proximity and extreme tension. Suddenly, he felt quite brave.

“Eds?” Eddie made a noise through the mouthful of rum he was currently drinking and Richie shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, “erm, how would you, you know...end the evening?”

“Well, if I had a shitty time, I’d probably leave and never call you again,” Richie nodded in agreement; he’d had more dates than he could count that had ended that way. Eddie played with his glass, running his fingers around the rim, “if I had an okay time, I’d ask for your number and maybe text you,” he stepped away from the bar and into Richie’s space, “and if I had a good time, I’d just do this.”

Richie opened his mouth to ask what ‘this’ was but he was cut off by Eddie seizing his jacket and pulling him down into a fierce kiss. The comedian was surprised and desperately needed to cry but he reciprocated, his hands leaving his pockets to tangle in Eddie’s hair. When they separated a few minutes later, Richie stared dumbstruck at his best friend.

“Fuck me...”

Eddie rolled his eyes, apparently unfazed by what had just happened, “well, yeah, dude, at least let me finalise my divorce first.”

Richie gaped a him, breaking out into a wide grin; he probably shouldn’t be so happy about the breakdown of someone’s marriage, particularly his best friend, but he was. Even the knowledge that Eddie had withheld the information his divorce was already underway didn’t dampen his spirits.

“Well, well, well, Eddie Spaghetti, you’ve been playing me like a fucking harp.”

“You started it!” He said although he did feel a little guilty. He just didn’t know how to tell Richie how he felt about him. Eddie shuffled his feet, biting his lip nervously, “are you mad?”

“Are you fucking mad? You’ve never been hotter,” Richie pinched his cheeks, making kissy faces at him like they were children again. Eddie laughed freely, swatting at his hands.

"Shut the fuck up, Rich.”

And he did, the best way he knew how. Kissing Eddie. Because he could. Richie was on cloud fucking nine. His best friend was getting a divorce, was super into him and loved him! If this was Pennywise, at least he’d die happy. Eddie eagerly took Richie’s hand and started pulling him towards the stairs, stopping them at the bottom.

“Oh, by the way,” Eddie placed a hand on Richie’s chest, momentarily halting his kiss, “if you ever do that British Guy bit in bed, I will kill you.”

Richie nodded, leaning in to press another kiss to Eddie’s perfect lips, winking, “gotcha, guv’ner.”

Eddie shook his head, wondering how on Earth he managed to fall in love with someone as wonderful, beautiful and fucking annoying as Richie. He told him so, over and over in the privacy of Richie’s motel room. If the other Losers saw them coming out of the same room the following morning, none of them said anything, although they may have exchanged knowing smiles.


End file.
